


Lifeline

by OwlOfDeath



Series: His Lingering Scent [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Character Development, Depression, Drinking & Talking, Fantasy, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Mages, Magic, Original Character(s), Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24876778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlOfDeath/pseuds/OwlOfDeath
Summary: Arithaniel and Corinn are dead, Hashin's heart is shattered beyond repair and he's left everything he knew behind.But you never know what, or who, you might run into when you're drinking yourself stupid in a small bar at the edge of the world.
Series: His Lingering Scent [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798504
Comments: 5
Kudos: 2





	Lifeline

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place almost one and a half years after the events of ["Stuck in the Middle (with You)"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24858484).

It was still too early in the afternoon for the small seafront tavern to be especially lively, but people were starting to trickle in, slowly but surely filling the bar and tables. Nevertheless there were already two empty glasses on the table in front of him, and one half-empty. He was drinking rum. Cheap rum. It was the most potent but least expensive item on their highly specialized menu, which consisted of alcohol, and gave you a handful of colour variations to choose from. The light brown liquor cast a warm shadow onto the worn table, glowing in the light from the wooden chandelier creaking from the ceiling. He leaned his forehead heavily in his hand, fingers splayed through his black hair as he watched it, turning the glass in a half circle, the stains on the side making the pattern on the tabletop shift.

"You don't look like you belong here," a man brazenly declared as he stopped to stand in front of him, his shadow blocking the candlelight.

Hashin raised his gaze enough to see his face, if barely. "Not enough vomit on my clothes?" He gave a joyless chuckle. "The night is still young."

"I've spent my life around sailors and ruffians."

"I believe you."

"And you don't exactly blend in," the man continued smoothly, leaning in with one hand on the table.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Hashin lifted his head slightly, putting the side of his chin in his hand instead as he regarded the man in front of him, his smile a little weary. "Although don't be too offended when I tell you that you do."

The man laughed, and the grin on his face looked genuine, and bold. It made a few fine lines deepen around his bright eyes. "None taken, if you don't mind me adding that you do, however, look suitably washed up."

"Mmm, that _is_ appropriately nautical, considering where we are." Hashin watched him, his hair covering half of his face as he tilted his head slightly, "and it works rather well, coming from a pirate."

The man's grin didn't waver, but his voice was a fraction more careful as he continued. "I was going to ease into that one," he chuckled, "what gave me away?"

Hashin gestured loosely at his ear, then throat, indicating the gold jewelry, and then he pointed at his head. "The hat."

"Is it a problem?"

"Do I look like I'm in a position to judge?" he chuckled thinly before taking an indifferent swill of his drink.

The pirate rapped his knuckles against the wood, as if reaching some kind of conclusion. "Mind if I join you?"

Hashin pointed at the chair opposite with his pinky, still holding his glass close to his mouth. "Be my guest."

He took the tricorn hat off his head, placing it on the right hand side of the table next to him as he sat down, and then pulled off the red scarf he wore underneath, scrubbing his fingernails through his short cropped, sandy blonde hair. The hat looked like it had seen its fair share of use, the leather worn but well cared for, not a single crack marring its surface. He raised a finger to get the waitress's attention, waving her over.

She appeared almost immediately, a full tray resting against one shoulder. "What can I do for you fine gentlemen?"

"Jolinda, could we get another refill for my friend here," he said, shooting Hashin a glance, "and two shots of your good rum."

"Sure thing, hon," Jolinda chirped and left.

Hashin arched his eyebrow by a degree, a bland smile on his lips. "That's very generous of you."

"I don't drink that cheap bilge water unless I have to."

"I can't blame you," he said flatly, "it's not very good." Hashin emptied his drink into his mouth and put the glass back down as Jolinda returned with the bottle. He swallowed as he watched her fill it back up, then wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb as some rum ran down it, sucking it clean.

She took two full shot glasses from the tray and placed them nimbly in front of them, not spilling a drop. "You two have a fine evening," she said with a practiced smile, taking the empty glasses with her.

"Yeah, you too," Hashin replied like an afterthought, not looking at her as he reached for the pack of cigarettes next to him. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

He pulled one out, tapping the end against the table out of habit, almost as a thoughtful pause, and then popped it loosely between his lips. Before he could light it the other man had already fished out a brass lighter, flicking the flame to life as he reached forward with it. "Thanks," he said, meeting him halfway, "I appreciate the gesture." He took a long drag, making the embers fizzle softly, and then he trained his eyes on the man opposite. "But I'm not a prostitute."

The pirate gave a sudden laugh, sitting back in his chair. "I'm not looking for one."

"Then what are you looking for, if you don't mind me asking. Don't tell me it's the pleasure of my company?" he smirked, eyes narrowed.

"A navigator."

"Hmm?" Hashin hummed curiously. Taking another draw from his cigarette he blew the smoke in the other man's direction slowly, and then smiled as he tapped his mouth with his finger. "Are you lost?"

"Not at all, but I'm looking to flesh out my crew. My name is Eugene Forester. I'm the captain on board the ship the Bloody Queen."

"Captain, hm? That explains the good rum," he said, his pleasant smile not quite reaching his dull eyes. Eugene raised his drink, dipping it in Hashin's direction before he took a sip from it. "I'm flattered, really, but I don't have any practical experience with seafaring."

"What about map reading?" he asked simply, watching him from behind the glass. His green eyes were piercing, scrutinizing and serious in spite of his amiable tone.

"Heh, you mean like latitude and longitude?" Hashin chuckled, moving his index fingers horizontally and vertically respectively. He ran his hand through his hair before he dropped his chin back into his hand, the ashes from his cigarette falling to the table soundlessly. "I'm intimately familiar with the concept of coordinates, but from an altogether different field." He took the smoke between his fingers and tilted his head at the captain. "We're talking about nautical charts I assume? I know how to work a sextant, but with ships I suppose you'd also have to account for currents, depths, tides," he rolled his hand slowly, indicating he was searching for the right words as he dredged his marinated brain for the latent information. "What do you call it, seasonal winds?"

The captain raised his brow by a degree and put his glass down. "So you do understand some of it."

"Not really, just a guess."

"But you can learn?"

Hashin shrugged, smiling as he leaned in slightly. "Anyone can learn _anything_ , if they have a mind to."

The captain nodded with a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "And do you... Have a mind to?"

"That depends," he said easily, "right now I have a mind to drink this." He lifted the rum to his lips and took a generous sip, his brow furrowing slightly as he half laughed and half coughed at the taste. "Mh, that is better," he agreed, "still I wish they had some decent wine."

"Where did you learn about these things, you mentioned it was from 'a different field'?"

"Dalaran, mostly. Translocation, that sort of thing, it relies heavily on getting your numbers right."

The captain paused, the surprise obvious on his face. "The city of magic? Of the Kirin Tor?"

"That's the one," he chuckled joylessly, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

"So you're..."

"A mage, yes."

"I knew there was something about you," he said in astonishment, his smirk growing into a wider grin.

"Uh-huh," Hashin grunted with muted enthusiasm, his smile faded. He knocked the shot back, coughing with his mouth closed as it burned down his throat.

Captain Forester stroked his neatly trimmed circle beard as he watched him, then promptly gestured Jolinda over and ordered another round of the same.

"Then what are you doing out here in this rotten part of the world?" he asked as the drinks arrived, sliding the second glass over to him.

"Piquing your curiosity, I believe."

"Fair enough," he conceded, "that's your business." He leaned in closer, sinewy arms folded on the table. "Would you at least give me your name?"

"Ah? Didn't I? It's Clearwell," he started and stubbed his smoke into the ashtray, and then sat up from the table and leaned back against the chair, "my friends call me Hashin." His smile crept back to his features, but the eyes looking out from behind his dark locks kept their empty expression. "Nice meeting you."

"I'm offering you a job, Hashin, as the navigator on board my ship."

Hashin laughed, but it came out rather strangled. "And I'm not in a state to make any life changing decisions, I don't think."

"No," Captain Forester agreed easily, "come by my ship tomorrow and we can talk details when you're sober." He stood, then paused and gestured to the bar. "I'll keep my tab open; you're welcome to use it for the evening."

"To sobriety," Hashin declared and lifted his drink, gracing him with another bleak smile before downing his second shot of rum in one go, tilting his head back as he poured it down his throat.

"She's the galleon moored on the west side of the harbor," he added as he lifted his hat from the table with both hands, placing it on his head like a crown, "I'll see you then." He gave him a curt nod before he strode off, saying something to Jolinda as he passed her, and she turned around to wave him off.

"Mm-hm, see you later." Hashin snorted softly as he reached for another cigarette, catching the waitress's attention with two raised fingers. "Hey Jolinda," he said, leaning back to look at her with a jaded smile, "it looks like I can afford the good rum tonight."

\- - - 

It was already midday by the time he crawled his way out of his room, and after a sleep in, a bath and a fresh set of clothes he even looked fairly presentable. Some of his hair was brushed back from his face and secured at the back with a strap, and even though he had dark rings under his eyes they had regained some of their light.

The west side of the harbor was only a short walk away. When he had arrived in town a couple of days prior he hadn't bothered to move far from the sea, dropping into the first tavern with vacant rooms. He wasn't sure what a galleon looked like exactly, but he assumed it was a ship of decent size, so he strolled down the seafront looking at the vessels moored there without any real plan, cigarette dangling loosely from the corner of his mouth.

"Hah! You made it!" a voice called from above and he stopped, shielding his bloodshot eyes from the sun as he looked up, which in spite of being veiled by a layer of clouds was too sharp for his taste. Captain Forester was leaning on the railing with a bold grin, clearly in his right element. "I wasn't expecting you to show bright and early, but you had me worried there!" he laughed. "I'll come down, just a minute!"

The gangplank rattled as he kicked it into place, strutting down the narrow passage like he owned it, which he did.

Hashin tossed his smoke into the bay and raised his hand in greeting, meeting his smirk with an easy smile. "I wasn't sure what to expect," he said, eyes drifting to the imposing ship.

"Beauty isn't she?" he declared more than asked as he spread his arms, gesturing proudly at his ship.

Hashin tilted his head at the large figurehead at the front, carved in the likeness of a bare-chested woman with her face twisted into a scream of rage, his expression flat. "Yes."

"Come, I'll give you the grand tour," the captain grinned and stepped aside, gesturing for him to go on first.

"She's modified inside the hull," he said as he stomped the deck once, indicating the levels below them, "so she'll take more cargo. But there's still a decent set of cannons, a dozen on either side. When her holds are filled she's a little heavy in the water, but nothing the old girl can't handle. She's built sturdy!"

"Ah-hah," Hashin said vaguely as he poked his head through the door to one of the cabins. It was a fairly big room, enough for the large desk to stand away from the wall and still fit a good size bed, a table with four chairs, a large wardrobe and a cabinet. Wide windows opened up the far wall, flooding the space in natural light. It was opulent in style; obviously the captain's quarters for more reasons than just the size.

"There's a smaller cabin on the other side of that wall," he pointed towards the bed, "it's currently occupied by the first mate. The crew sleeps below deck."

"And where would I be?"

"Sleeping in a hammock doesn't suit you," Captain Forester smirked, "the second cabin would go to you, should you choose to accept."

"I can't argue with that," he agreed as he backed out of the room, the captain taking a step back so he wouldn't bump into him, "the nature of the work requires peace and quiet, not to mention desk space and storage."

"Of course." He gestured towards the second door, handing him the ornate key.

The other cabin was considerably smaller; fitting a desk and chair, single bed, small dresser and bedside table, and that was about all it could take if you wanted to have some space left over to breathe. The only window was a porthole barely large enough to stick your head through. However one wall was covered in shelves, from the floor to the ceiling. They were secured directly onto the wall, saving some precious space, and gaping empty. Hashin grunted softly in approval.

"It's not very spacious," the captain started, but he shook his head dismissively.

"No this is good, I'm used to smaller."

They walked up to the after deck, stopping at the railing to take in the view of the harbor. From up there you could see the whole seafront as it stretched in a wide curve, sprawling into the light blue waters far in the distance.

"Well," Captain Forester said finally, "there she is, and what I have to offer."

"Question is what you want in return," Hashin smiled, turning around to half-sit on the railing, eyes trained on Eugene. "I imagine you have more than just chart reading in mind."

"I would like to take your word for it," he said as he did the same, crossing his arms over his chest, "but I need to see it. You understand.”

"It's fine." He took a moment to ponder, looking out across the water again. "Do you have a bottle?"

"Ah, yes. Hey, Johnson! Get us a bottle of that cheap stuff, will you!" The burly sailor frowned, but was quicker on his feet than his broad build suggested. He returned promptly, handing over a nondescript bottle of unidentified grog. Before he left them he looked Hashin up and down skeptically, not bothering to hide his dislike.

"Don't mind the sailors," he said when he had gone, sucking on his teeth for a moment. "They're a good, disciplined crew, handpicked and capable, if wary of new faces. It comes with the territory, and I think we already established last night that you stand out."

"I don't mind," Hashin said simply.

"They'll get used to what I tell them to," he added anyway, as if making a point of his authority, then lifted the bottle in his hand. "What about this?"

"Just throw it away from the ship, please," he said, standing up. The captain watched him closely for a moment, trying to read his face, and then nodded. Adjusting the grip on the bottle he hurled it overboard, high up into the air.

Hashin extended his fist towards the water, and when he opened it an instant later fire erupted from his palm into a swirling blaze, enveloping his hand. Putting his shoulder into it he sent the flaming orb flying after the bottle, and it exploded on impact with the clear sound of shattering glass, followed by a roar as the fire quickly spread and expanded into a blazing inferno over the water.

Gleaming shards and fire rained down into the waves below, the bright flames reflected in the captain's wide eyes as he watched, his face betraying his excitement. Hashin turned to face him with a passive expression. "How was that?"

"Impressive," Captain Forester replied with a wide grin, his eyes alight with pleasure, "and it would undoubtedly prove very useful."

"Ah, thanks. I hoped it would be sufficient as a demonstration."

"You can do _more_?"

"Yes."

"I'd be delighted to see what you're capable of one day," he said, giving Hashin a friendly but firm slap on the shoulder, "and I think it's been proven that you're a man of your word. I'll make sure you have everything you need to do your job and be comfortable on board, and you plot the best course and handle navigation according to my requirements, providing support with your _specialized set of skills_ where needed. You'll be paid the equivalent of a first mate's share. What say you, do we have a deal?"

"Yeah," Hashin said, holding his slender hand out towards the captain's calloused paw, "we do."


End file.
